Unwanted Attention
by TraceAce
Summary: Ryan can't seem to get away from Michael.


**Title:** Unwanted Attention

**Author:** traceace

**Rating:** PG

**Pairing:** Michael/Ryan

**Disclaimer:** All characters portrayed in this work of fiction are completely not mine. They're owned by NBC and Greg Daniels and all that.

**Summary:** Ryan cannot seem to get away from Michael.

**Author's Notes:** God…this story has been sitting in my folder forever. I wrote it a while ago for my friend Erika as a fanfic/fanart trade, I had figured I'd never let it see the light of day otherwise, but I'm somewhat fond of it, so here you go.

* * *

"So there's no openings elsewhere for temp work?"

He kept his voice low, his thin frame slouching in his desk chair. After twenty minutes of arguing, Ryan had begun to feel a bit uneasy, his eyes constantly fixed on Michael's door. All he needed was to be caught by his overbearing, creepy boss attempting to find a way out. He tapped his pen thoughtfully against the desk.

"Is there a reason why you are even asking for the change? Reading over your files, Mister Scott seems to have nothing but glowing reviews of your work there…"

Ryan rolled his eyes, muttering, "I bet."

The woman continued, not hearing him. "It is hard enough bringing temps to new areas in the middle of their work cycle when they don't get along with their bosses, never mind when they apparently work together well."

"But that's just it, I hate him." He blinked, realizing that he had forgotten to keep his voice low. He slumped more into his seat as he realized he had gained the attention of the people around him. He cleared his throat. "…Look, I just don't get along with him. He has this entire notion about our working relationship that is completely opposite to mine. Is there any way--?"

"I'm sorry, sir. But unless you can give an extremely justifiable reason, we must insist you remain where you were assigned or you will receive no credit for your work up until now."

For a moment, Ryan considered replying with 'sexual harassment'. It slipped away as quickly as it came; no one would understand that. How would he even explain someone like Michael? "Alright. Thank you for your time."

He hung up and rubbed his temples. That had gone as he expected, but he was still disappointed. Now a few months into working for Dunder-Mifflin, he had found himself becoming increasingly unhappy with his situation. For one, it was clear the entire work force was insane, with a varied cast of characters that all seemed to have some sort of quirk to them. He could deal with this, of course. Most of them weren't even half bad, just…a bit off in the head. Michael, on the other hand…

Michael was part crazy and part egomaniacal. The egomaniacal part won out most times, causing him to make an ass out of himself on a daily—sometimes hourly—basis. At first, he didn't bother Ryan much. The usual coffee, dirty work, and odd jobs came his way and he did it with absolute ease. He kept to himself, trying not to do anything he didn't have to do. Sure, he was amused sometimes by the antics going on, but he hardly ever participated in them and when he did it was minimal at best. Most of his co-workers hardly knew a thing about him, Michael most of all.

He liked it that way.

But then it started to shift. People actually realized he existed and was not part of the general background. Michael, especially, took a random interest in him. At first, Ryan thought it was some sort of 'taking him under his wing' gesture. He was annoyed by it, but it wasn't awful. He figured perhaps among the hours of incessant babble he would likely go through he would find some semblance of information he didn't have before.

Soon after, though, it started becoming weird.

It was to the point now that at one time Jim joked that Michael might have a crush on him. The thought put an involuntary shudder go through him; while he had been teasing Ryan at the time, the fact was that it was possible the statement was closer to the truth than anyone could imagine.

"Ryan, my man!"

Ryan winced. He had been so close to being able to sneak out without being noticed. Turning in his chair, he didn't bother to force a smile. "Yes?"

"Coming to the bar tonight?"

He heard about the bar thing from Jim. Usually they were able to get out of it relatively easily, but this time Michael was being insistent. "Uh, I actually have a test tomorrow..."

He didn't.

"Aw, come ON Ryan, don't be such a nerd," Michael prodded him in the arm hard. He flinched a bit. "Here's the address. Don't be late."

Michael walked off and Ryan gritted his teeth, taking the paper. He would just stay there for a while and then sneak out, hopefully without being noticed. It seemed as good a plan as any.

He followed Jim to the place. He hoped that if he stuck near him, it would be less likely to be dragged off to hang out with Michael alone. Of course, he made the mistake of not mentioning this idea to Jim himself. He should have known better, especially when he knew a certain receptionist might also be coming along.

About five minutes into sitting down, Pam walked in. He didn't actually see it, but he knew it happened because Jim stopped mid-sentence and started staring over his shoulder. Ryan held back the urge to snap his fingers in front of Jim's face back to reality. Ryan turned his head to see Pam approach, a smile gracing her features.

"Hi, guys," she said, her eyes locking with Jim's for a moment. Ryan rolled my eyes slightly, though neither of them noticed.

"Pam! I thought you weren't coming," Jim said. How she didn't notice the absolutely joyful expression on Jim's face was beyond Ryan's comprehension. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

And then Jim was gone. Ryan watched them go, hardly remembering to say goodbye to him as they went. With them went any hope of staying away from Michael. It was only a few minutes before Michael walked over, plopping himself into the now vacated seat. He was already slightly drunk, his head lulling a bit to the side.

"Here's the party animal," he laughed, waving his drink a bit. "Let me buy you one."

"No thank---"

"BAR KEEP! GET ME A BEER!"

Ryan slouched in his seat a bit as people began to stare at them. Someone walked over to deliver the drink and Michael slid it over in front of him. Ryan hated beer.

"Really, Michael, I'm fine," he pushed it a bit back toward him.

"You know you want to," he insisted. So Ryan did drink it, not wanting to see any other methods Michael might have to egg him on. He glanced around, hoping to find somehow to get out of the situation, but there was none. Jim and Pam had disappeared and most of the people he talked to, even Angela, had managed to go off on their own. Ryan shifted uncomfortably as he drank the last of the obviously cheap beer and placed it on the table.

In that time, Michael had drank three. He started babbling about something that he didn't catch really, just a random jumble of troubles and whines and the usual Michael-related garbage. He half-listened, his eyes wandering about elsewhere. Michael was too drunk to notice his disinterest.

He hadn't thought about the repercussions of him drinking. Near the end of the night, after most were gone, Michael had finally begun to show signs of the illness that came with his 'partying'. Ryan knew that it was his chance to get away. It would be incredibly irresponsible to leave him in the state he was in and he knew it, but the thought of driving him home, well…

"Ryan, where ya goin'?" Michael asked. Ryan stopped mid-step, not turning around.

"Uh, home," he said, turning his head. "See you…on Monday."

Michael seemed even worse off at the small distance he was from the table. He sighed at length, walking back. Regardless of his opinion, he didn't want Michael to get hurt. "Want a ride home?"

His boss perked up. "Really!"

"Uh…yeah," he muttered. "Come on."

Michael attempted to stand up and nearly crumpled to the ground. Ryan instinctively grabbed to steady him and was instantly weighed down by his weight. He awkwardly managed to stay up, even when Michael draped his arm over his shoulder.

"You're the greatest, Ryan," he declared as they stumbled toward the exit. Without any help from Michael, the task was no easy feat.

Walking from the bar to his car took around five minutes. Getting Michael into the car took just as long. He kept thinking it was funny to resist any attempts at getting into the seat. Ryan eventually just shoved him roughly until he gave in and sat down. Red-faced and breathing heavy, he moved to the driver's side and got in too.

"Where do you live again?" Ryan asked, wincing as Michael leaned heavily against his window. He would definitely need to clean his car after this.

"I gave you my address," Michael murmured. Ryan rubbed his temples.

"Remind me."

He at least knew the area Michael lived in. Starting the car, he quickly began to speed over there. The faster he got Michael into his house the better, in his opinion. He kept eyeing his boss, hoping he didn't puke. There were a few times it looked like it was about to happen, but he managed to contain it.

It was around twenty minutes after they left that Ryan managed to locate the house. Michael nearly toppled out when he opened the door to help him out. Ryan reached down and pulled him up. Michael acted like a rag doll, too out of it to do anything else.

"Almost there," Ryan said, mostly to himself. He gritted his teeth as Michael swayed a bit, nearly making them both fall. "Come on, Michael, help me."

"Did I ever tell you," he started, then burst out into laughter for a moment. "….You're the best. Best temp _ever_."

"Thanks, Michael." He managed to reply.

It was sudden. One minute they were just inches from the steps, the next Michael had managed to twist his body so he was facing him. Ryan's breath caught in his throat as Michael suddenly kissed him, his hand gripping his shoulder tightly. Only after a few seconds did he let go. Ryan stumbled backwards himself, spluttering a bit, his face red for an entirely different reason.

Michael seemed confused, as if unsure of what he did. He slowly turned away, going to his door, fumbling with his keys.

Ryan didn't even say goodbye. He turned and left, he himself near unable to really grasp what had transpired. It was only far later in the night that it hit him that Michael had _kissed_ him. He wasn't sure how to react, so he took the easy way out: explained it away by him being drunk and tried to forget about it.

The Monday after, Michael had come to work bright and early, all signs of being drunk obviously gone. He was a bit more quiet than usual, but besides that, nothing came up. By mid-day, Ryan was almost positive he had forgotten all about it.

A part of him was disappointed. He had actually hoped that Michael would be uncomfortable enough to leave him alone for a few days. Instead, he actually had more work than ever, doing a bunch of inane errands.

As he left to get Michael's dry cleaning, Jim suddenly stopped talking. He hadn't stopped early enough to stop Ryan from hearing the conversation.

"Pam, I heard something about Ryan and Michael…"

He felt the color flush from his face as he quickly left. Glancing behind him, he could see the gleam of the camera focused on him.

"So much for being unnoticed," he muttered crossly to himself as he left, moving out of the camera's sight.


End file.
